Dakota and Gena came over to the house. Blank paper, paint. They both, without thinking, without mulling…painted. The filters about what to paint, will it be ok/good/enough were off. In front of Dakota was the plant. He painted a tree. I don’t know if he somehow got the idea for the tree from the plant. I doubt it. I didn’t see him look at it and he did the whole painting in 10 minutes and every inch of the paper was covered with paint. It was rich and honest and it was a tree, beautiful.
In the medical world, ventilation is the process of blowing out the carbon dioxide after breathing. There is inspiration and ventilation. Inspiration is the taking in, ventilating is the letting go. It is all a part of breathing. Breathing is the hinge on which the door of life swings.
I can’t think too much about what inspires me. Things do. Dakota did, Gena did. The plant is the silent, present (and right in front of him) inspiration for the tree in Dakota. He breathed it out, breathed life in to it. He painted it. Art is our echo of the creation moment, the breathing of life into something. It connects me to The Beginning.
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